


Detective in a Red Dress Part 4: The Piano Man

by totallynotnatalie



Series: Detective in a Red Dress [4]
Category: GWA - Fandom, Original Work, gonewildaudio - Fandom
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Bar Fucking, Blow Jobs, Edging, F/M, Face-Fucking, Gender Bent Noir Tropes, Noir Theme, Speakeasies, Teasing, narration, old flame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:40:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28222545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totallynotnatalie/pseuds/totallynotnatalie
Summary: This is part 4 of 7 in the Detective in a Red Dress series.
Relationships: F4M
Series: Detective in a Red Dress [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067342





	Detective in a Red Dress Part 4: The Piano Man

**Author's Note:**

> This is a script for the GWA subreddits. Please contact me before posting a recording of this work anywhere else.
> 
> This content is intended for 18+ audiences only.
> 
> Feel free to modify the script to meet your needs.

[F4M] Detective in a Red Dress Part 4: The Piano Man [Noir Theme][Female Detective][Gender Bent Noir Tropes][Old Flame][Face Fucking][Bar Fucking][69ing][Blowjob][Teasing][Edging][Speakeasy][Narration] 

Script Notes: This script is done in the style of noir fiction. It is meant to mimic the voiceover given at the beginning of most old noir films.

Setting Notes: Like most noir, the setting is reflective of 1920s New York. But this could presumably take place in any big city. So, please don't worry if you don't have the 'right' accent.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I grumbled to myself as I slid open the door of a nearby diner. It was an old haunt of mine. A divey place just a couple blocks from my office. It was called 'Worst Kept Secret'. The name was apt. It was one of the most notorious speakeasies in the entire city. 

The cops knew about it, but they simply didn't care. There are worst crimes than getting drunk, especially in the slums. Around here, some poor slob drunk at a bar is one less fella committing armed robbery. As much as the police acted like fools, they never better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. And Worst Kept Secret sure as hell made their jobs a lot easier. 

For me though, it was a cheap distraction from the grit of detective work. And today, I more than needed it. I had checked every commune and pseudo-nunnery this side of the river. And still no sign of the kid's sister. 

It didn't make sense. Girl was too rich to have a trade. If she wanted out of her upper east side life of making silver spoon babies, her only options were either religion or some new age philosophy. But it was becoming increasingly clear that she hadn't found either. 

I was out of leads. And soon I would be out of time. 

So, I might as well drink like there was no tomorrow. 

There wasn't a soul inside the diner and all of the tables were covered in dust. It was clear that nobody ever intended to eat food here. I wondered why they even bothered to keep up the facade, but I guess there's something exciting about having a secret-no matter how obvious. A childish game to distract from a cold reality. 

I didn't even pretend to be confused by the lack of customers. I went straight to the back of the room and knocked the badly done replica of The Mona Lisa off the wall. With the mood I was in, I wanted to punch old Mona straight through her shy smile. But I didn't have the dime to replace her. 

Instead, I crawled through the hole in the wall that she was meant to hide. Once I was through, I put her back in her place. Might as well keep the game afoot. Crawling through that hole was likely going to be the most exciting thing that some poor housewife did that day. 

Given my lot, I knew that I should want to trade places with some broad whose only problem was raising babes. But I didn't. The slammer was better than spending my life walking behind some honest working fella who held his head a little too high. Better to be a caged bird than a pecked hen. At least in my eyes. 

I laughed. At least I could have my last few glasses without regrets.

The barkeep had a drink in my hand before I could even sit down. In spite of myself, I gave him a small smile. He was as much an old haunt as the bar itself was. Although I never felt like needed him, it was nice knowing that I always had him in my back pocket-just in case. 

Most called him 'The Piano Man' because he spent any time he wasn't pouring playing the bar's rickey out of tune piano. He was told me that it was his dream to become a musician, but, try as he might, he could never move beyond being a mediocre piano player. Eventually, he gave up and opened Worst Kept Secret. 

In truth, he was a pretty mediocre bartender as well. But it's much easier to earn your keep as a semi-decent tapster than it is as a semi-decent pianist. So he settled. 

His character was an odd mix of gentle charm and the sadness that comes from a dream deferred. I think that's what drew me to him. 

Well, that and the fact that I knew that he could never truly love me. His heart would always belong to that piano. I would always be second best and that meant that I was safe. 

I thought about kissing him right then, but I still needed my drink more than I needed his lips. 

He knew better than to try to push me. Since the bar was empty, he went back to trying to repaint the constantly chipping walls. We both knew that it was an exercise in futility. The paint he bought was too cheap. It would just keep chipping, but I guess it was just another little game to keep his mind off things. 

I was grateful for the quiet. It was nice to spend a few moments watching paint dry. 

But once the alcohol finally hit my system, I knew I had to take advantage of the empty bar. 

The piano man didn't look remotely surprised as I grabbed him by the collar and pull him in for a kiss. We had played this game countless times before. He knew what to expect. 

I let him wrap his arms around me for a few minutes as I kissed him harder. But, when he tried to kiss me back, I pulled away. Tonight, I was in the mood for something a little spicer. 

I climb on top of the bar and gave him a 'come and get me look'. He didn't wait for more than half a second before jumping onto the bar after me. His enthusiasm earned him another kiss and permission to undo my top. 

After he undid the final button, he stared at me with a dopey grin on his face. I grumbled and snapped my fingers at him. I was flattered, but empty bars only stay empty for so long. I wanted some action before it was too late. 

At least he didn't need to be told twice. He pushed me down onto the bar and buried his face in my chest. I twisted with pleasure as I felt him hit all the right spots. 

He always did know how to tease. 

But, then again, so did I. 

I kissed his neck to make him moan. It worked. He wasn't able to contain himself. 

Once he was distracted, I wrapped my legs around him and twirled around so that I was on top. Then, I pinned his wrist down and kissed him as hard as I could. He moaned even louder. 

He still had a couple of tricks of his own though. I felt his hand reach under my skirt. He gave a sly wink as he slid my panties down. I reached down and gave his cock a tug to try to distract him, but it didn't work. Once my panties were off, he twirled them around his wrist with a coy smile on his face-like he had won a prize.

He licked his lips. I sighed. I knew what he wanted. On any other night, I wouldn't have given it to him. But tonight was the last night of my freedom. It was time to take a chance. 

I gave him one last kiss before pushing my body forward. I hiked my skirt over my waist and straddled the bar. I hovered my pussy over his face. Then, I finally let my cunt touch his mouth. 

I moan as he began to lick. For a quiet man, he always had quite the tongue. And, for once, I was going to let myself enjoy it. 

I felt myself getting wetter as he flicked my clit back and forth. He felt so good. I couldn't help but gasp in sheer delight. 

With each stroke, the pleasure grew. My body began to tremble as I struggled to keep balance. I still wanted more. 

I knew that he was pushing me close to the edge, but I couldn't let myself give in. Not yet. Something was still holding me back. 

He pushed me further. His strokes grew harder and faster. I had to bite my lip to keep from screaming. 

But I still wasn't ready to give up. Some part of me still wanted his pleasure over mine. And I was going to take it. 

I twirled my body around and bent down. My hand slowly slid his cock out from under his pants. I kissed it a couple of times for good measure. Then, I started to suck. 

I heard him gasp, but his mouth never left my pussy. He was determined to please me. And I was determined to please him. 

I ran my mouth up and down over his long shaft. I knew that I was pushing him closer with each bop of my head. 

He answered by teasing every inch of my cunt. 

The pleasure was almost unbearable. But I still wouldn't give in to it. 

I pushed his cock deeper and deeper into my throat. I knew that he couldn't hold back much longer. 

I bobbed my head harder and faster. His body finally started tremble. I was almost there. Just a little further and he would be mine. 

As his body shook, I added just a little bit more pressure. I hoped it was enough because it was all I had left. I couldn't fight the pleasure much longer. 

But I finally felt his mouth tear away from my pussy. And he screamed in pure ecstasy as the pleasure overtook him.

I laughed because I knew that I had won. I always win. No matter how much he tried to test me. And, even if this was my last dance, I couldn't end it by losing to him. I didn't need ecstasy to be satisfied. One last night of his pleasure was enough.

And now it was time to go.

I wanted to leave without looking back at him, but he grabbed my wrist. He didn't say anything, but I could tell from his eyes that he wanted the truth. He knew I wouldn't have let him push me that far unless I already had one foot in the grave. 

So, I told him everything that I knew. How the kid died. How I still couldn't find his goddamn sister. All of it. 

He stared back at me. I didn't expect him to have an answer. He was never one for puzzles and he looked as stumped as I ever was. All he could do was shrug and say that I was right. It didn't add up. 

Suddenly, a flash of realization struck me. He had just given me the last clue. I knew where the kid's sister was. Or at least, I had a guess. 

My last guess. 

I left without saying goodbye. I didn't need to. He knew from the look on my face that he had helped me even if he didn't understand how. 

I'd have to come back to thank him someday. But right now my eyes were set on a little rich girl with some pretty lofty ambitions.


End file.
